


(this is what you get) when you're talking back

by talking_tina



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Gabe's Basement, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 13:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talking_tina/pseuds/talking_tina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gabe Saporta first meets Patrick Stump on the 2005 Fueled by Ramen tour, the first thing he thinks is <i>Oh my God, I have met my polar opposite and he’s so <b>pretty.</b></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	(this is what you get) when you're talking back

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot list enough warnings for Gabe's basement.
> 
> Anyways, a crack-ish attempt at how Gabe got Patrick to produce their record.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction using fictional characters based in the likenesses of real people. Never happened, and I do not own these names.

When Gabe Saporta first meets Patrick Stump on the 2005 Fueled by Ramen tour, the first thing he thinks is _Oh my God, I have met my polar opposite and he’s so **pretty**._

And he is, really--tiny and blonde and cute as a button, hiding under various trucker hats and occasionally behind Pete Wentz. There’s a lot about him that screams vulnerable, and that alone would have been reason for Gabe to hitch a ride on the Fall Out Boy bus and poke and prod and leer at him until he decides to go bother that pretty William kid instead. But then, Pete supplies him with one vital fact about Patrick that has Gabe utterly sold.

“Oh, yeah,” Pete says one day, stage left as The Academy plays their set, William strutting on the stage like he owns it. “Patrick wrote pretty much everything on this record. It used to be both of us, but I just ended up fucking everything up, so I leave all the music up to him now. Little dude’s a genius.”

Gabe eyebrows shoot up. “You mean all this music--” _the radio hits, the beautifully catchy songs that worm their way into my head and plant your much darker ideas there to grow and fester_ , Gabe’s brain helpfully supplies, “--is his music?”

Pete grins at him, shoots him a knowing look as he unscrews that cap on his water bottle. “I managed to fit a chord in here and there, but, yes.” He swallows down a few very noisy gulps of water before wiping his mouth, already sweating again under the blindingly bright stage lights. “I don’t know how he does it.  I’m just glad I found him when he was still young. Before another band snatched him up.”

Unfortunately for Pete, that’s exactly what Gabe plans to do.

x

Kidnapping Patrick proved to be alarmingly easy.

“Hey, sugar,” Gabe says when the blonde opens the door and greets Gabe with an unwelcome stare. “So, you’d look pretty in my basement right about now.”

“I’d look--wait, what about your basement?” Patrick says slowly, eyebrows furrowing. He takes a step back, looking ready to dart, when the corners of Gabe’s mouth lift to grin evilly at him.

He doesn’t get very far--Gabe’s got nearly two feet on him, and it’s really not that difficult to secure his arms around Patrick’s waist after a few seconds of chase and hoist him up, the blonde kicking and screaming as Gabe carts him back to the front door.

“Mother _fucker_ , put me _down_ , before I fucking--!”

Gabe laughs and clamps a large hand down on Patrick’s mouth, grinning when Patrick licks his palm in an attempt to get him to remove it. “Before you _what_ , pumpkin?”

Patrick only makes an aggrieved sound as Gabe hauls him down the driveway and into his van.

x

Patrick falls asleep on the drive back to Manhattan, which provides a perfect time for Nate to properly bind and gag him (“Is this really necessary, Gabe? This is, like, so low-budget nineties thriller. I thought you were cooler than that.” “Shut the fuck up, he can’t fucking sing for us if he screams his lungs out for six fucking hours, can he?”) and Gabe to grab a much-needed Starbucks for the both of them.

“For the Cobra,” he says upon handing the coffee over to Nate, and the other merely raises his cup with a grim smile.

x

“Gaaaaaaaaabe!"

The brunette smiles to himself when he hears Patrick holler from the basement, scooping up his coffee mug and ambling downstairs, finger-combing through his hair as Patrick’s yells continued to echo through the house.

Patrick is writhing and swearing under his breath when Gabe opens opens the door, wrists tugging uselessly against handcuffs and polo shirt riding up an inch or so due to his thrashing. It reveals a pale patch of soft white skin Gabe wanted nothing more than to pinch. _Later_ , he tells himself.

“Hey, love,” he greets, shutting the door behind him and smiling cheerily at him. “Why all the fuss?”

“You--you _fucking handcuffed_ me to your _fucking bed_ , you motherfucker!” Patrick hissed, tugging again and wincing at the consequent pain. Gabe eyes the pale softness of his upper arms levelly, pulled up against the headboard, before tearing his eyes away from the site, and seating himself on a nearby stool instead.

“Wow,” Gabe says, swishing his coffee idly. “I didn’t know you had such a mouth on you, Patrick.” He really hopes the blonde doesn’t miss the double entrende. By the following glare he shoots him, he probably doesn’t. “You could really be using it for better things--”

“Biting your fucking fingers off sounds really nice right about now,” Patrick cuts in, and Gabe’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Jesus, Pattycakes,” he says, stealing Pete’s fond pet name for him and earning another glare in return. he takes a sip of his coffee. “You’re a deadly little shit sometimes, aren’t you?”

Patrick only continues to glare, and, wow, Gabe wasn’t expecting him to be this cute. He’d expected some whining and a few tears, maybe even begging, not... a frustrated little puppy of a man.

“Well, this blows,” Gabe sighs. “I really don’t know what to do with you. I had some, uh, methods planned to convince you to contribute your skills to our cause, man, but with that cute li’l face of yours? Not gonna happen.”

“What’s not gonna happen is your _career_ if you don’t let me go _right the fuck now_ ,” Patrick hisses at him, tugging against his handcuffs, and Gabe almost-- _almost_ \--recoils. “You forget that Pete owns the fucking label now. He’ll be pissed as fuck at you for trying to--trying to _contribute_ me to your _cause_ or whatever.”

Gabe furrows his eyebrows.

He’ll worry about Pete later, he decides.

x

When Pete finally figures out why Patrick vanished for so long a few days later, it took all of the Cobra crew, plus Andy Hurley, to tear him off of Gabe, who greatly underestimated Pete Wentz’s wrath.

“Ahh, _fuck_ , man! Shit, I think you broke my nose--” Gabe is swearing, holding his nose as Andy finally managed to hook his arms under Pete’s and haul him back. Gabe stumbles back into his own crew, dangling slightly in Ryland’s hold. “Jesus, all you little guys can really pack a punch.”

“Maybe you should think about that before you go about kidnapping another one of our band members again,” Andy advises.

Gabe doesn’t.

****  
  



End file.
